


Change of Perspective

by Assthorn



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Gender or Sex Swap, Geralt thinks it's funny, Jaskier gets in trouble, M/M, Nipple Play, Other, Smut, Vaginal Sex, baths of course, blanket permission to podfic, but it's temporary, no beta we die like joey's cake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:48:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23899990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Assthorn/pseuds/Assthorn
Summary: "Geralt, look, I have tits!"akaJaskier discovers a rare beast and multiple orgasms.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 31
Kudos: 469





	1. Providing Exposition

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a mostly gay lady, and while I love these boys two dicks is a lot of dicks. I'd rather write smut with at most, one dick. So here we go.
> 
> Dedicated to Hsu for inspiring me to write something with a lot of Jaskier talking.
> 
> Also, I know gender is a tricky mine field for a lot of people. This is meant as lighthearted fun, but don’t read if gender bending magic will bother you.

“Geralt! Geralt, it’s umm… GERALT!”

Geralt sighed, taking a moment to move the spitted hare off the fire before grabbing his sword and sprinting in the direction of the crashing and yelling. He would have been in more of a hurry if he had sensed anything nearby. As it was, there was nothing dangerous so even odds Jaskier had just gotten his foot caught in a gopher hole or his clothes caught on a tree.

“Took you long enough!” Jaskier admonished, trying to untangle himself from a thicket of thorns.

Geralt lowered his sword and turned to leave.

“Geralt, don’t _leave_ me,” Jaskier said in that flamboyantly petulant way of his. “Some help here? I’ve got thorns… places.”

With another sigh, Geralt used his sword to hack through the bramble until Jaskier was untangled and they both trudged back to camp.

“Why were you…” Geralt gestured behind them as they walked.

“I thought I saw some blackberries, if you must know. A man cannot survive on hare alone… well, maybe he can, but he doesn’t want to.”

Geralt did not bother telling Jaskier that that sentiment was true, actually. You could starve if you ate nothing but hare- not enough fat on them.

“And then this, this _thing_ jumped out at me and it startled me, Geralt. Then the bastard _jumped_ on me and I stumbled into the brambles…”

“What thing?” Geralt asked, a lick of concern stirring in his chest.

“Ah, so glad you asked. It looked like a hedgehog, but much bigger and it had a yellow stripe down its back like a skunk, but it wasn’t smelly. And it had fangs, Geralt, fangs! And-”

Geralt stopped and immediately started running his hands over Jaskier, yanking out brambles as he went.

“Geralt?” Jaskier asked, sounding a little chocked. “What are you doing? Not that I’m opposed to an aggressive pat-down between friends but- OW, hey! What’re you-”

“Fuck,” Geralt spat when he found a clump of quills sticking out of Jaskier’s hip.

“Geralt?” Jaskier asked, more plaintive this time.

Geralt grabbed Jaskier’s arm and frog-marched him the rest of the way back to camp, where he deposited Jaskier on a bedroll and went digging through his saddlebag.

“Geralt?” This time his voice quivered with nervousness.

Geralt emerged from his bag, brandishing a pair of pliers which normally were used to repair armour or tack. “Hold still,” He grumbled, planting one huge hand on Jaskier’s stomach while the other set to work yanking out the quills with the pliers.

“Owwwww!” Jaskier yowled. “Fuckshitcunt BALLS!”

And then it was over.

“Well, what was that all about?!” Jaskier demanded of the sky while he lay panting on the bedroll.

“Jezamiania,” Geralt said, using the pliers to carefully deposit the quills into an empty potion vial he had brought with them.

“Fine. Good. Fine. What the fuck is a jizzmantra?”

“Jezamainia,” Geralt corrected, corking the vial and setting it carefully near the fire, “Are very rare, very valuable and mostly harmless.”

“Mostly?!”

“We’ll know in a few hours.”

“HOURS?! I could only live for another few _hours_?!”

“If you keep carrying on like this.” Geralt grumbled and looked up at the panicking bard. “Calm down, Jaskier. Even if there’s enough venom to affect you it won’t last long. A week at most. And,” He continued, “We can sell the quills. For a _lot_.”

“How much is a lot?” Just as Geralt had hoped, the promise of a payday perked Jaskier right up.

“Enough for a decent inn for a decent while,” Geralt replied, moving the hare back over the fire and carrying on with his evening routine as if nothing had happened.

“And what are the ah… effects? That I might have for a week?”

“We got the quills out quickly, so it’s possible you’ll be fine.”

“'Fine' he says,” Jaskier muttered grumpily, finally sitting up to check the damage to his trousers and sighed. Another ruined pair. He hoped the “a _lot_ ” of coin would be enough to buy him some new clothes. There was nothing for it now, so he fell back into the routine as well, helping Geralt to finish setting up camp, cooking, cleaning, and other mundanities until he went to bed.

He tossed and turned, phantom itches and pricks keeping him awake. Jaskier had checked himself for thorns and quills several times. Geralt and even gone over him- twice- which might have been pleasant under other circumstances but was just embarrassing and painful now. There was nothing left sticking his skin, but try telling that to his over-zealous nerves.

“Would you settle down?” Geralt grumbled, pressing a hand to Jaskier’s middle in an attempt to quiet his restless bedmate.

“I can’t,” Jaskier whined. “I’m _itchy_. Maybe I’m allergic to that jezamacallit.”

Geralt cautiously slid his hand upward.

“Geralt, darling, this is hardly the time- WHAT THE FUCK!”

“The effects,” Geralt said, humour creeping into his voice as he gave Jaskier’s breast a squeeze.

“WhAt ThE fUcK!” Jaskier sputtered, flinging off his blankets and grabbing himself all over.

“Noooooo. No no no no no.” Breasts, smooth face, wider hips… “My dick is gone! Geralt! Geralt!” He squealed, voice rising to new heights. “MY VOICE! Geralt, I have to perform in court in three days! I can’t- my fucking voice is fucked up! Geralt, I’m, I’m-”

“A woman,” Geralt rumbled, trying hard not to laugh for Jaskier’s sake.

“THIS ISN’T FUNNY!”

“Now do you see why people pay so much for Jezamiania quills?”

“People PAY?!”

“Sure,” Geralt shrugged, leaning back to appreciate Jaskier’s new form. Not that there was anything wrong with his usual one, of course, but Jaskier had ripped off his night clothes to better inspect himself and, well.

“Are you _staring_ at me?”

“You’re pretty.”

 _“I’m always pretty!”_ Jaskier raged, jumping up and pacing in front of the fire.

“Hmm,” Geralt agreed.

“Why the fuck would that fucker’s venom do this?!” Jaskier grumbled, slowly his pacing and trying to calm down. Geralt had said it would wear off. A week at most. Jaskier focused on slowing his breath with limited success.

“Defense mechanism. Confuses predators.”

“I’ll say.”

“Jaskier, come to bed.”

“Geralt-”

“To sleep.”

“How am I supposed to sleep?” Jaskier whined, plopping back down on the bedroll.

“Like this,” Geralt said, wrapping his arms around Jaskier, tugging him down and throwing the blankets over them both.

Jaskier fretted and wiggled for a few minutes, but finally settled. The familiar smell of Geralt’s skin, his solid arm and chest, slow breath, it all helped calm Jaskier’s nerves.

“You’re going to be all right,” Geralt said, his nose in Jaskier’s hair.

“Promise?”

“I promise. I won’t let anything bad happen to you. Not now. Not ever.” A rare tenderness crept into Geralt’s voice, his touch gentle at it stroked Jaskier’s arm.

“Okay,” Jaskier said, finally calming. “Okay.


	2. Light of Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's just smut. Enjoy.

“Geralt, look, I have tits!”

“Hmm.”

“Geralt, you’re not looking. They jiggle,” Jaskier giggled like a teenager.

“I thought you were worried about your performance?”

“Oh, that,” Jaskier flapped his hand and positively _pranced_ through his morning chores. “These little darlings are small enough I can hide them, and I’ll just move my songs up and octave or two. I’ll practice on the way.”

“Hmm.”

After about an hour on the road, Jaskier was feeling a little less enthusiastic. Shifting to a higher vocal range was not, in fact, easy. He grouchily tried to practice in the lower register of his new voice, but that wasn’t working either. That, and it turned out that constant jiggling resulted in sore tits.

“Geralt.”

“Hmm?”

“I’m not happy anymore. I want to stop.”

“Here?” Geralt asked, looking up and down the empty road.

“No, you big lout, at one of those fancy inns you said we could afford once we sell the quills.”

“If you want an inn then we have to keep going.”

Jaskier sighed and kept walking a few paces.

“I need to piss.”

“So go piss,” Geralt grumbled, raising a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“But I don’t know how it works!” Jaskier wailed. “I hate this! I swear to Melitele I will never snicker at a grumpy woman again.”

They kept walking.

“UGH!” Jaskier threw up his hands, then shoved his lute at Geralt with uncharacteristic roughness and stomped into the brush.

“Look out for brambles,” Geralt couldn’t help but call after him.

“Fuck you,” was the muttered reply.

It took Jaskier an awfully long time and when he came back he smelled like urine. There was a wet patch on the lower part of his left leg.

When Jaskier didn’t say anything about it but simply plodded ahead Geralt grew worried.

Thankfully, the found a town by nightfall and mercifully there was a nice inn with a room available. The pair headed up the stairs to find a clean room with a large bed. Jaskier dropped his things and fell face first onto the mattress and didn’t move.

Geralt quietly set up their things the way they both liked and started a fire in the hearth. He went downstairs to fetch dinner and when he returned Jaskier was still motionless on the bed.

“Eat,” Geralt said. “It will make you feel better.”

“I sincerely doubt that,” Jaskier said, voice muffled.

“It won’t make you feel worse.”

Jaskier sulked for a moment longer before heaving himself up. “Fiiiiiine,” he drawled, slouching over to the floor where Geralt sat with their food and wine.

The wine was harsh, but the food was good. Jaskier finished his meal and sat in petulant silence.

“Shall I order a bath?” Asked Geralt.

“Hrmph.”

Geralt stood, collected the bowls and cups, and left.

He was gone an inordinately long time. Jaskier was starting to get really worried by the time Geralt came back, hauling a wooden tub with the innkeeper in tow. The bath was filled and Geralt started pulling things out of his pack and dumping them in the water.

Scented oils, the kind Geralt said were unnecessary. He also placed a fresh bar of soap on the edge of the tub before turning expectantly to Jaskier.

“You just want to stare at me some more,” The bard had a good sulk going and wasn’t going to give it up over a few oils.

“I sold the quills,” Geralt replied, tugging Jaskier to his feet. “I bought your favourite oils, and even found some candied fig for you.”

“Candied fig?” Jaskier replied quietly, allowing Geralt to undress him.

“You can have it after your bath.”

Jaskier sighed in defeat, stepping out of his trousers and into the tub. Geralt crouched behind him, reversing the roles they usually performed at bath time. Geralt gently ran the fine soap over Jaskier’s shoulders, kneading carefully at the knots there. He worked his hands down Jaskier’s smooth arms and slender wrists, then lifted a hand out of the bath to kiss his long, narrow fingers.

“Thank you, for this,” Jaskier sighed as Geralt guided his head to the water to wet his hair before he started to wash it. “I still don’t like it. But I like this.”

“But wouldn’t it make a great song?” Geralt teased, dunking Jaskier to rinse the soap from his hair.

“Are you sure you didn’t get a quill or two? You’re acting like me,” Jaskier groused, leaning forward so Geralt could wash his back.

“Someone has to,” Geralt rumbled, “Since you’re acting like such a priss.”

“Oi!”

Geralt abruptly wrapped his hands around Jaskier to hold his breasts. Not squeezing or pawing, just holding. It felt nice.

“Oh, is that what you want.”

“Obviously.”

“Well, I hate to disappoint but I’m feeling a bit discombobulated at the moment and I-eep!” Jaskier squeaked when Geralt gently pinched a nipple.

“I think there are… advantages to the situation.”

“Oh, yeah, like what? If all you want is a pair of tits to play with you have plenty of coin to hire a-”

“I meant for you,” Geralt released one of Jaskier’s breasts so his hand could slide downwards. “Women can come multiple times.”

Jaskier sputtered indignantly, trying to ignore the wandering hands that couldn’t quite reach their destination. “I _know_ that! How dare you insinuate I care so little for a woman’s pleasure that I wouldn’t have figured that one out on my own. Really, Geralt, do you think so little of my skill and dedication and- _Geralt!_ ”

Geralt hauled Jaskier out of the bath, wrapped him roughly in a towel and tossed him on the bed.

“Do you think so little of my _skill and dedication_ that I wouldn’t do the same to you?”

“Oh,” Jaskier said quietly, his mind finally grasping what Geralt was getting at. “I suppose I have wondered what it must be like…”

“So that’s a yes, then?” Geralt asked as he worked to strip off his clothes.

“Awfully presumptuous of you,” Jaskier tried to retort but the words had no bite. He laid there and watched as Geralt gave himself a quick sponge bath, then joined Jaskier on the bed.

Jaskier couldn’t help but let out a contented hum as Geralt rolled on top of him and started nosing around Jaskier’s ear and neck.

“You smell mostly the same,” Geralt murmured, breathing deep through his nose before licking a path up the side of Jaskier’s neck which made the bard wiggle. “Taste mostly the same too. But there is a difference.”

“Mmm,” Jaskier sighed agreeably. Neck kisses were always nice and was one of Geralt’s go-to moves one the rare occasions he initiated a seduction. Jaskier had to admit, this probably was Geralt’s finest seduction, with the bath and the figs…

“What about my figs?”

“Huh?” Geralt asked, only half paying attention as he was busily nipping at Jaskier’s collar bones.

“My candied figs. You said I could have them after my bath.”

“Later,” Geralt growled impatiently.

“But-”

Geralt shifted lower so he could rub his face against Jaskier’s breast, his stubble scraping across the tender skin. Jaskier liked this sort of thing normally, but Geralt suspected with the added sensitivity…

“Geraaaaaalt.”

He smiled against Jaskier’s skin, placing a kiss on the side of Jaskier’s breast before working his way up to his nipple and taking that in his mouth too.

“Ooooh, that’s nice. I didn’t know it would be so nice- oh, I like that, mmm, yes. You know, I was once with this milkmaid- lovely girl, straight teeth- and she, Ooooh, she could come just from this sort of thing, mmmm.”

Geralt was working the nipple between his teeth, gently sucking and nipping at it while using his fingers to pluck at the other one.

“I don’t know that I’ll be able to, I feel that must surely be a learned skill but oh, that does feel nice. I’m beginning to see why someone might want to buy the venom.”

Geralt was used to the constant chatter during sex, but even so, this was… a lot. He worked his way further down. Usually Jaskier would collapse into moans once his cock was occupied, so perhaps… Geralt flicked his tongue over Jaskier’s outer lips and was gratified when the bard squeaked. Another gentle lick- Geralt didn’t want to startle Jaskier with too much all at once. He was basically a virgin, after all.

He gently parted Jaskier’s sex with one hand, opening him up to further exploration. He licked and sucked his way top to bottom, avoiding Jaskier’s clitoris but probing Jaskier’s opening with his mouth.

“MMmm, oooh, wow. Woooooow, oh, Geralt, this was a fantastic idea, could you maybe do this forever? A little deeper, love, aaaah, yes yes yes.” Jaskier babbled, his hands tangling into Geralt’s hair as his hips bucked. Geralt exchanged his tongue for two fingers, easing them into Jaskier’s wetness, no oil required. It was a nice change, not having to worry about those sorts of details.

“Let go,” Geralt rumbled, allowing the vibrations from his voice travel over Jaskier’s cunt. “You can come as many times as you want. Come for me, Jaskier.” Geralt curled his fingers and Jaskier practically leapt off the bed. It was then, in the throes of orgasm, that Geralt sealed his lips over Jaskier’s clitoris and sucked gently.

Jaskier positively screamed. Beyond words, he moaned and thrashed. He squeezed his thighs against Geralt’s head as if he meant to crush it.

Geralt allowed Jaskier to come down, slowly pulling away.

Jaskier whimpered, mouth opening and closing like a fish until he finally found his words. “ _Don’t stop!_ ” He cried, hands scrambling clumsily for Geralt’s shoulder, trying to pull him back down. “You said I could come as many times as I want! That was only one time and I definitely want more.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt batted away the bard’s hands, shifting himself upwards to rub his cock along Jaskier’s wet heat. This time Geralt moaned. Gods. He enjoyed Jaskier’s regular body, he really did, but there was nothing quite like sinking into a warm, wet cunt.

“Oh! Oh, yes, okay, I see where you’re going with this. Mmm. Well, then, shall we?” Jaskier wiggled his hips and wormed a hand between them. He found Geralt’s cock and carefully lined it up. “I assume you want this hole?” he asked smartly.

Geralt sank slowly in. What if Jaskier had a maidenhead? Geralt hadn’t gone that deep with his fingers and he didn’t want to hurt-

“Geraaaaalt,” Jaskier whined, clinging to Geralt’s hips while he pushed his own up to meet him.

With a low groan, Geralt pushed and pushed, until there was nowhere left to go. Jaskier was so _hot_ and _wet_ and _tight_ and Geralt could fuck him as hard as he wanted without worrying about tearing him or having enough oil or…

Jaskier was quivering again, clamping down inside and out; squeezing and clawing and moaning until he went still and silent.

“Hmm,” Geralt said.

“Mmph,” Jaskier replied.

“Are you done?”

“Noooooo,” it was more of a moan in the shape of a word.

Geralt sat back and rolled his floppy, sweaty lover over before straddling Jaskier’s thighs and feeding his cock back into the bard.

“Ooooh,” Another moan-like word. Geralt adjusted his angle and thrust in again.

“OohhhOOOOOHHHH!” Jaskier’s moan went up an octave, so Geralt knew he had found the right spot. Once he had a rhythm going, Geralt shoved a hand under Jaskier’s hips to strum his clit and Jaskier positively shattered. Geralt came before he knew what had hit him, and they both shuddered through the aftershocks together.

They lay still for a long time, Jaskier still twitching and clenching occasionally until Geralt found the wherewithal to roll to the side.

“Are you done?” Geralt asked again, tired but with a hint of amusement.

Jaskier laughed hoarsely and burrowed his face into Geralt’s chest. A few minutes later he was fast asleep.

Geralt was glad that he’d held back a couple of the Jezamiania’s quills.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it, folks. Hope you enjoyed. I could write a sort of epilogue if anyone is interested. Please let me know.


End file.
